The Raven
by ZeldaDragon
Summary: Neo realizes that no one is immortal...not even Trinity. "I'll never forget the day I almost lost you for the first time."


**A little something that came to me yesterday at four in the morning after I finally finished reading the book I got two days ago. Short, I know.**

**Disclaimer:I don't own Neo and Trinity.Well, darn.**

**Yay for randomness!**

**xxx**

I'll never forget the day I almost lost you for the first time. I'll never forget the fear I felt for you, that icy spike of dread when I saw you fall to the ground. I abandoned any thought of my own safety and the closing threat, wanting only to get you away from danger. You chewed me out about it later, but I was just glad there _was _a later.

It started as any normal mission for us goes. You know, me holding back the enemy and you collecting the data we needed. But something went wrong. We had been tracked, and at least seven agents came to the building we were working in. If it were just me, God knows I'd have stayed to fight. But you were there, too, and however much I knew you could hold your own, I was frightened that you might be hurt. So I told you to run, and I took off after you.

You kicked down the door and we sprinted out into a narrow alley. There was hardly room for the two of us to stand side by side between the brick walls, so you pushed me ahead of you by just a step. I could feel you close at my back, near my shoulder, keeping up with me easily. You took out your phone and asked for an exit. I don't remember what Link told you, but I guess that doesn't really matter now.

We both heard two agents come out of the door close behind us. We ran, but they ran just as fast. I had thought we were doing pretty well. Not caught yet, and I could see the end of the alley just up ahead, which would bring us out onto a street we could follow to a payphone a couple of blocks away.

You shoved your hands hard into my back, pushing me on faster, when you heard the gunshots. The range was too close where we were; too much of a chance one of us could be hit. Shot after shot hit centimeters from our bodies, embedding in the pavement or the walls. But then, just as we were about to break free of the confining alley, I heard you gasp in pain, then all but cry out when another bullet hit the soft skin and hard muscle of your leg.

You stumbled to the ground and tried to pick yourself back up again. I could see blood pouring from the first shot in your lower back. Your sunglasses had slid down your nose with the fall and you looked up at me with wild eyes, not quite believing what was happening. Without thinking, I yanked the glasses off your face and scooped you into my arms, taking off in a sprint for the open air just ahead. As soon as we were out of that restricted space, I leapt into the air. I could feel your lifeblood staining my jacket, running slickly over my hands and through my fingers, dripping to the earth far below. I felt sick.

I landed in front of our exit -- a payphone that looked well beyond its years -- and pressed the receiver to you ear, feeling you evaporate from my grasp. I put the phone back on the hook, waiting for the next ring. It came soon after and before I knew it I was back on the ship. I pulled the spike from my head myself and jumped from my chair, rushing to where Morpheus was already standing with you. You looked pale, but I had to breathe a sigh of relief. We made it. Just barely, but we made it back safely.

"Link," Morpheus had said, "Take her down to the med bay and give her some painkillers." He looked down at your grimacing face and gave a small, reassuring smile. "You'll be just fine."

And you were just fine. As soon as I was able, I made my way down to the bay after you and Link. You were resting on your stomach on the small cot in the corner so as not to irritate the wound in your back or lower leg. Link was just pushing up the bottom of your shirt to see the extent of the damage from the more deadly hit when I came in. A small amount of blood, the amount a mother would expect from a scrape, lined the corners of a dark bruise. It was almost black from where more blood had pooled under the skin.

I had to avert my gaze when Link pressed a needle into the bruise to relieve some of the pressure. You grasped my hand in your own, squeezing at the almost painful sensation. Blood ran up into the syringe and out from underneath your discolored flesh. The needle was removed and labeled before the rather large tube was placed in a cooled cabinet 'for emergency needs,' Link had said. He blushed slightly when he asked you to take off your pants so he could check the other injury just below your knee.

I stood back and let him work. Although Link was new to our crew at the time he, had been trained in medical care before he joined with us, so we both trusted him. When he had finished, he gave us both a strained grin. He handed me a small jar with a greenish cream inside.

"Rub it on those bruises before you guys go to sleep," he had said before leaving to report to our captain.

Through your batting hands, I helped you to stand and wrapped an arm high around your waist to guide you back to our quarters. You gave up fighting off the assistance as soon as your injured leg had weight put on it. The trip to our room was short, and as soon as we were inside you sat tenderly on the bed while I closed the door. You leaned forward and rested your head in your hands. That's when the verbal beating came.

"Why did you stop?" you asked, leaving no room for me to answer before you went on. "That was stupid, Neo. I can take care of myself. You could have gotten hurt as well, didn't you realize? Then we'd both have died in there because we couldn't save ourselves." You didn't pause for a breath, and your words were rushed and jumbled...from exhaustion, I'm sure. "Just because I was down didn't mean I was gonna stay down, you know. I was about to get up when you grabbed me. I've been hurt worse; I could have made it to the exit without your help..."

And on and on you went. I was expecting it, of course, so I just let you run dry before I spoke. When you had finally stopped, I said, "Take off your clothes."

You looked at me, your eyes glaring with anger. "What?" I remember the exact tone of your voice, the anger, disbelief, confusion...all mixed together. That's the tone you use with me when we argue, and it usually makes me cower down from the fight and just go with whatever you say.

But this time I just repeated what I said before, adding, "We both need to sleep, and I need to rub some of this stuff on your back before we can." I held up the plastic jar.

Your face melted, the anger disappearing. You looked down and whispered, "I'm sorry." It was the first apology you ever gave me, and I was surprised to be getting it then. Neither of us said anything more that night. You removed your shirt and pants, and I rubbed that nasty-smelling cream where you were hurting. After that, I gave you one of my shirts and we curled up and fell asleep.

Looking at you now as you prepare the Logos for our solo departure, I again feel that spike of fear rush through my body. When you had been hurt that day...I had never felt more helpless. I realized after the fact that you were not really in any immediate danger from those ugly wounds, but that didn't change much. Now that fear is stemming from the very real fact that we may not return from this last mission. We both know it, and though we claim to be strong, we're both terrified.

There's nothing to be done for it. We have to do this, to whatever end. To whatever end indeed. All I wish for is that after that end, I'll still have you.


End file.
